


don't get caught up in caution when love exists

by wafflesofdoom



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 20:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18017834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesofdoom/pseuds/wafflesofdoom
Summary: coming out at any age is hard - coming out at 19 to a father who's made it clear he will never accept it, in a village where everyone knows your name and every detail of your life? robert deserved the nobel peace prize just for not murdering everyone in sight.but he's got aaron, at least.





	don't get caught up in caution when love exists

There was a lot of things about Emmerdale that Robert hated. He hated having to help on the farm every summer, the school term was over, no reasons left for Jack not to boot his two sons out of bed at the ungodly hour of five am, and make them work – the fields waited for no man, apparently, and why would anyone bother sleeping if they could be out, mucking out cows and wishing they were dead?

He hated cows. Robert honesty hated cows with a passion that would make him the rural village opposite to PETA. He would advocate for _more_ cows to be killed, if it meant that he didn’t have to get up at five am.

Robert also hated how suffocatingly small Emmerdale _actually_ was. If you asked Pearl, she’d tell you that it was a real up and coming village now, what with the shop, and the pub, and the so-called restaurant in the B&B, all hallmarks of the apparent metropolis Emmerdale was.

No, it was too small. Robert had felt the walls start to close in around thirteen, and they’d been squeezing the life out of him ever since.

But the thing he hated most about Emmerdale?

The great Jack Sugden.

Robert had the terrible misfortune of being the middle son (oldest, if you asked him, but people rarely did) of Jack Sugden, village icon, the greatest farmer Emmerdale’s muddy fields had ever known, etc., etc.

He’d been a disappointment to Jack for most of his life. Robert, he’d wanted more out of life that Emmerdale village, and Jack had taken it as a personal offence. The fact Robert had spent most of his teenage years determined to make Jack’s life a living hell was beside the point – he’d only done it in response to his father being an almighty twat.

An almighty twat who just had to go and have a massive heart attack, and a triple bypass that put a stop to Robert’s carefully thought-out plans for the most epic gap-year of all time. He’d saved every penny from his job at the garage for years, making sure he had enough to buy a one-way ticket out of Emmerdale, and to Thailand, to begin with - hopefully to never, ever buy a return ticket to Emmerdale, not as long as he lived.

A year of travelling, of being the person that the stifling walls of Emmerdale Farm stopped him from being, and Jack couldn’t even let him have that much, could he? No, he had to nearly die (thanks for the false hope, dad) and be sick enough that Robert was obligated to put his gap-year on hold and stay behind to help the family.

The _family._

People said that like Robert was a genuinely well-loved part of the family. He’d always been the figurative black sheep, yet, somehow, Diane had done her level best to guilt trip him into staying, saying all sorts about how Victoria would need him, and he could bring in extra money from working in the garage, which they were going to need to pay the labourers they’d have to get in to help on the farm while Jack was recovering, and how he needed to help his poor father recover from such a traumatic surgery, blah, blah, _blah_.

So here he was, aged nineteen, still stuck in Emmerdale, an empty seat with his name on it on a flight to Thailand long since departed.

If this was God’s way of punishing him for whatever Robert had done in a past life, he was doing a bang-up job of turning his life into Dante’s seventh circle of hell. Right down to him having to sit, and have breakfast with Emmerdale’s golden couple, Andy and Katie.

Robert had her first.

He didn’t want her back – God, no, he had _standards_ , thank you very much – but he didn’t ever want it to be forgotten that the so-called love of Andy’s life had been his, long before she was ever Andy’s. It was a bit Neanderthal of him to say it, sure, but he had to get his kicks somehow, and sitting across the breakfast table from Dumb and Dumber, knowing full well that Andy _definitely_ thought about how Robert had spent months shagging Katie in the room next door to Andy’s, definitely gave Robert’s dull life some moderate entertainment.

The cheap engagement ring on her finger was never going to change the fact that Robert had her first.

“I’m going to the hospital today, to see dad,” Andy said, pushing the concrete like porridge he’d made around his bowl. “Do you want to come?”

Robert would rather stick pins in his eyes. Or slowly, painfully, remove every single piece of hair from his body using duck-tape.

“I’d rather throw myself under a bus,” Robert said sweetly, deciding to go for the less creative, but still pointed response.

“You shouldn’t talk about your dad like that,” Katie interjected, a frown crumpling her forehead. “He’s a good man.”

“And you shouldn’t have gotten that fringe cut in because it makes your face look chubby, but you don’t see me talking about that, do you?” Robert replied, scraping his chair back, dumping his breakfast bowl in the sink.

“Robert, don’t talk to her like that!” Andy growled, slamming a fist on the table.

“As much as I’m enjoying your theatrics, I’ve got to go to work,” Robert replied, shoving his sunglasses on before he ducked out the front door of the farmhouse, and into the bright September morning, He loved this time of year – it was the only time of year he’d ever admit to liking Emmerdale, the bright yellows, and oranges, and burnt reds of autumn making the village it’s most tolerable.

If he’d had a different life, a different childhood, a different family – maybe Robert could have loved it here.

But the scathing words of a father who hated him, the phantom bruises that had never faded from memory, even as years had gone by, made sure he was never going to love it in Emmerdale. How could he, really, when he was holding back the biggest part of him, all for the sake of not upsetting a man who didn’t like him anyway?

Robert swallowed thickly, admiring the broad swell of Aaron Dingle’s shoulders as he approached the garage. A year ago, even allowing himself to recognise he found the younger boy attractive would have been unthinkable.

But Robert had made his peace with who he was.

A blond, bisexual nightmare.

Just, a closeted one.

He wasn’t entirely insane.

(Yet.)

“Morning,” Robert greeted, a sleepy looking Aaron blinking at him from where he was sitting, hugging a cup of tea like it was a lifeline. “Late one?” he inquired, reaching around Aaron to flick the kettle on, realising all too quickly he hadn’t even touched his coffee that morning.

“Says the guy wearing sunglasses inside,” Aaron yawned, running a hand through his hair. You always knew the mornings when Aaron was suffering from the night before – he’d never bother with his usual helmet of gel.

Robert quite liked when his hair was a fluffy mess.

“That’s just because I’m cool,” Robert said, carefully placing his sunglasses inside the box he kept stuffed in his pocket. They’d been his first splurge, back when he’d been planning his year of travelling – a proper good pair of sunglasses, not the Primark ones he used to have every summer. No, these were the kind of sunglasses he’d aspired to wear, Rayban written neatly along the side, the frames sleek and sturdy.

A sad reminder of the year he should have been having, really.

“If you tell yourself that often enough, it might start to sound believable,” Aaron replied, raising an eyebrow as he took a swig of his tea.

“I’m the light of your life, Dingle,” Robert grinned, blowing him a kiss. They’d not always gotten on, him and Aaron – they’d clashed heads more than once when Aaron had first arrived in the village, a gobby fifteen-year-old with a serious chip on his shoulder, but over time, they’d become friends. Aaron had been a laugh, when Robert started working at the garage, Aaron having already bid the hellhole that was Hotten Academy goodbye after his GCSES, a whiz kid when it came to cars and engines.

It was oddly sexy.

Robert wasn’t entirely sure when he’d realised he had a thing for Aaron, but he was pretty sure it was around the time Aaron had taken up boxing, filling out the grubby t-shirts he’d wear in the garage in a way that made Robert sweat like pig in a slaughterhouse.

“You’re the bane of my life,” Aaron responded, draining his tea. “Your dad getting out of hospital soon?”

“Unfortunately,” Robert grimaced. “Diane and Andy have decided that throwing him a welcome home party in the Woolpack is a good idea.”

“And you’re hoping the shock of a party will put an end to him for good?”

That’s another thing Robert liked about Aaron – he never judged him, for the shit he would say about Jack. Even Val would say he was being too harsh sometimes, and she was supposed to be on his side, but Aaron never did. Aaron had listened to Robert admitting a part of him wished Jack hadn’t survived the heart attack without an ounce of judgement on his face, and it’s not like he even really knew why Robert hated his father as much as he did.

He could tell Aaron, he supposed. There was no one else in the village who would understand his situation more than Aaron Dingle. Aaron hadn’t so much as come out, as he’d been dragged out of the closet, kicking and screaming, but over the past few years, he’d embraced that part of him in ways Robert couldn’t help but admire – Aaron was gay, and he’d happily batter anyone who had something to say about it.

He could tell him.

But – well, every time he would try, the words would get stuck in his throat.

Robert had never said it aloud, that he was bisexual, unless quietly whispering it to yourself in the bathroom mirror in the dead of night, trying the word out for size when no one was awake to hear it, but that was as far as he’d gone.

He was going to reinvent himself, during his gap-year. Robert, he was going to get on that flight to Thailand as Robert Sugden, known bisexual. It would have been the perfect opportunity for him to be the person Emmerdale stopped him from being, but Jack had managed to take that away too, and he didn’t even know it.

Robert heaved a sigh, taking a swig of his coffee. “I think Andy would be more insufferable if Jack did die,” he admitted, glancing at the to-do list Cain had left them, their boss gone to a conference for the day.

It was going to be a quiet day.

“How is the wedding planning going?” Aaron asked, popping the bonnet of their first job of the day, knotting his overalls at the waist.

“I’d rather be dead than be involved in any of it,” Robert said dramatically, thinking of the hour he’d been forced to sit at their kitchen table, Diane and Katie cooing over varying shades of taffeta. It should have been classified as a form of torture under the Geneva Convention, if you asked him.

“You’re such a good best man,” Aaron snorted. “You can really feel the love in your every word.”

“I still can’t believe they’ve made me be best man.”

“Some would say it’s an honour,” Aaron pointed out, fiddling with something in the engine.

“It’s an honour if you haven’t fantasied about murdering your own brother,” Robert sighed, leaning against the car. “Do you ever think about getting out of here?”

“Out of Emmerdale?”

Robert nodded.

Aaron paused to think for a second, hands still stuck in the engine. “Sometimes,” he said. “But Emmerdale isn’t all bad, really.”

“You’d stay here forever then?"

Aaron shrugged, muscled shoulders rippling underneath his tight t-shirt. It was too much, really - those shoulders looked like they’d been crafted from granite, and Robert was still a horny teenager at heart. “I’ve got no reason to leave just yet, do I?”

(Robert – Robert could see Aaron’s shoulders as one of the reasons he wasn’t ready to leave Emmerdale just yet.)

“You’ll come to Jack’s welcome back party, won’t you?” Robert said after a beat of silence. Not the kind of tense silence that used to hang over the garage – no, a comfortable silence now, silence between two people who trusted each other.

Sometimes, Robert was certain Aaron was the only person in Emmerdale he could rely on.

Aaron grinned at him. “Of course. Do you think I’d miss you kicking off with your dad in front of the whole village again, after last time?”

Robert rolled his eyes. “Get to work, twat.”

Aaron practically cackled, ducking the half-hearted swat Robert aimed at him. “I’m the light of your life, Sugden!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert wasn’t entirely sure why he’d been the one tasked with getting his father from hospital. Really, Jack was more likely to refuse to be signed out of hospital now that Robert was the one collecting him.

Still, apparently it was rude to protest about collecting your father from hospital.

So, here he was - wandering the halls of Hotten General, looking for his father's room. He’d visited Jack under duress a few times, but never on his own. He’d asked a nurse, and she’d directed him here, to the world’s longest hallway.

“Robert!”

Robert looked up to see the guy he’d definitely hooked up with last time he’d gone to Bar West, hiding in a corner for fear he’d see someone he knew. Jake? Josh?

“It’s George,” the nurse smiled, his expression making him seem more familiar.

“Of course,” Robert gave him a sunny smile. He did remember him, now the nurse had given Robert his name. They’d had a couple of pints together, and Robert had done some terrible dancing, and they’d kissed - a lot, actually.

Robert had even got a bathroom blowjob.

All in all, not a bad night.

“How have you been?” George inquired, looking as decent in the harsh light of the hospital as he had done under the neon lights in Bar West, all sandy brown hair and green eyes.

“Good,” Robert confirmed. “You?”

“Good,” George echoed. “Weren’t you going to Thailand?” he asked, a smirk fixed in place on his face that suggested he thought it had all been a ruse, a story Robert had spun to try and impress him.

If only.

“My dad had a heart attack,” Robert would play the part of the dutiful son if it meant he got a decent shag out of it. “So I’ve postponed the trip.”

George’s forehead creased with concern. “I’m sorry to hear that, is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Robert waved off the concern. “But considering I’m sticking around longer than I’d planned, maybe we could grab a drink sometime?” he flirted, enjoying the way George seemed to melt a little under the intensity of Robert’s gaze.

Boy or girl, this is what Robert was good at.

“I’d like that a lot,” George said, directing a shy smile at Robert. “Here, give me your phone - I’ll give you my number, you can text me.”

Robert handed over his mobile, watching as George quickly input his number into Robert’s contacts - complete with a smiley face, Robert noted, pocketing his phone with a self satisfied grin.

“I’ll speak to you soon, then,” Robert said, resisting the urge to wink.

Winking would have been creepy.

“I should hope so,” George grinned, brushing past Robert a whole lot closer than strictly necessary as he left, heading the opposite way to Robert.

Any happy, excited butterflies that might have been floating around Robert’s stomach quickly died as he realised Jack was standing in the doorway of his hospital room, looking on with a disapproving look on his face.

Oh god.

He’d seen everything, hadn’t he? And Jack - well, he might be a terrible father, but he wasn’t a stupid man, he’d know exactly what was up.

Robert had never wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he did there and then.

“You’re late,” was all the greeting Jack offered.

Late for his own death, presumably.

“I had to find a parking space,” Robert retorted, entering Jack’s room, picking up the neatly packed gear-bag on the bed. “Is this everything?"

“Where’s Andy?”

That’s a yes, then.

“Waiting for you at your welcome home party,” Robert said, shouldering the gear-bag. “Which is why I’m here, so they can set everything up.”

“Nice of him, to think of me,” Jack said, straightening his coat as they left the room, heading down the hallway.

“It was Victoria’s idea,” Robert replied.

“Was that boy a friend?” Jack inquired.

“Yes,” Robert said through gritted teeth, not willing to offer up much more information.

“He looks older than you,” Jack commented. “You couldn’t have been in school together.”

“I can have friends I didn’t go to school with,” Robert said, leading Jack to the car, throwing the bag into the boot with more force than strictly necessary. He was sort of hoping he’d break something in there, if he was being entirely honest.

“Are you thinking of becoming a nurse then?”

Robert raised an eyebrow. “Why would I want to be a nurse?” he was fairly certain his father was losing the plot. Maybe they’d bypassed his brain, when they were fixing his heart.

“Because you’re friends with one.”

“I don’t want to be a nurse.”

Jack settled into the passenger seat of the car. “You have terrible bedside manner, it’s probably for the best,” he commented. “You need to put the car in reverse.”

“I’m a mechanic dad, I know how to drive,” Robert rolled his eyes, jamming the car into gear and reversing out of the car-park.

“So how did you meet him?”

“Why is that any of your business?” Robert couldn’t help but snap. “Do I need your permission to have friends now or summat?”

“ _Something_ \- you’re spending too much time with that Dingle lad.”

“Do I need your permission to have friends now, or _something_?” Robert said, making sure every word that came out of his mouth was dripping in sarcasm.

“I just want to know you’re not up to owt you shouldn’t be.”

Robert felt every drop of blood in his body started to boil with anger.

The meaning was - well, it was clear, wasn’t it?

“And what would those things I shouldn’t be doing be, dad?"

“There’s no need to take that attitude with me, I’m only looking out for you,” Jack snapped back. It was obvious where Robert got his temper from, sometimes.

Robert snorted. “Yeah, of course you are.”

“If you want to give yourself a harder life than necessary, that’s your problem, son,” Jack said, gazing out the window as they took the turn-off for Emmerdale. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

Robert squeezed the wheel tighter, vividly remembering the feel of a leather belt across his back.

If that was looking out for your kid, Robert was damn sure he never wanted to be a father.

Slamming on the brakes hard enough to jolt Jack in his seat, an ‘oof’ escaping the older man, Robert cut the engine. “Home sweet home, eh?” he practically growled. “I’ve really missed having you judge every breath I take, dad.”

“All you have ever wanted to do is put yourself first, Robert,” Jack shot back, the two of them fuming as they made the short walk into the pub. “Forgive me for thinking of our family, of what people think of us.”

“Shouldn’t you want me to be happy?” Robert argued. “You’re my dad, my happiness should be your priority.”

“Spoken like a man who thinks the world revolves around him,” Jack said, pushing his way into the bar before Robert could even reply.

Home sweet fucking home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’d like to say a few words,” Jack said, getting to his legs a bit unsteadily. Robert was fairly certain you weren’t supposed to be drinking pints when you’d only recently had a triple bypass, but he didn’t exactly care, there and then.

“Go on dad!” Andy said with a grin.

 _Insufferable prick_.

Robert was pretty sure that if it were possible, Andy would get a face transplant just to look like their father.

“When you have a health-scare like I did, it really puts life into perspective,” Jack began, looking around at their table. “It makes you realise what you should be grateful for - people like my wife, Diane, my sons Andy and Robert, my daughter Victoria - and of course, my future daughter-in-law, Katie.”

 _Vomit_.

“It’s any parents dream to see their kids end up happy, and in love, and to see you give Andy that love and support, Katie, it means a lot,” Jack continued, a soppy smile fixed in place on his face. “My dream, it’s to see you settle down with a nice girl like Katie, Robert -”

If you asked him afterward, Robert wouldn’t really be able to justify why he’d decided to react the way he had. Okay, no, that was a lie, he could - it was one snide remark too many for Robert, and he just really could not take it anymore.

So he snapped.

Shoving back his chair, Robert stood up, a furious expression on his face. “Is who I sleep with a problem for you, dad?”

“Robert, sit down,” Jack glared at him.

“No, I think it’s time everyone knew why you make all these snide remarks, _Jack_ ,” Robert said, not caring that the pub was deathly silent now, everyone watching his outburst with interest.

“Robert, I am warning you.”

“See, daddy dearest here, he’s not too impressed with the fact I’m bisexual,” Robert said, his heart thundering in his chest as he said the word aloud for the first time, said it aloud with the entire village watching on.

“Don’t be stupid, Robert,” Andy decided to intervene. “You don’t always have to be the centre of attention, sit down.”

Robert was enjoying the scandalised look on his father’s face too much to sit down. “No, it’s true,” he said. “I love dicks, everyone. I’m a big fucking fan of a good dick. I love shagging men, _dad_.”

“Robert, keep your voice down - you’re making a show of yourself,” Jack growled, his face slowly turning from bright red, to purple.

Maybe it would explode, if Robert kept going.

And he sort of wanted to keep going, because he was on a roll now. It sort of - well, it sort of felt freeing, to have this big secret he’d kept for so long out in the open now, to have everyone know.

“Am I? Am I making a show of myself? All because I like men?” Robert demanded. “Do you not like that, dad? Does it make you uncomfortable to think I like dicks? I can tell you all about what happened when I shagged that nurse, dad, all about his big, giant -”

Robert felt hands on his waist, a grinning Aaron standing next to him. His heart was racing, now, a cold, clammy sweat clinging to his skin, making him shiver.

“Let’s get some air,” Aaron suggested, barely hiding his smirk.

“This is between me and my son, Aaron, so back off,” Jack was on the verge of yelling now, and Robert was never more grateful for Aaron than he was in that particular moment, Aaron dragging him behind the bar, and into the backroom, leaving all the chaos of the pub behind.

“Well,” Chas fixed him with a funny look. “That was one way to come out, Robert.”

Robert felt like he was going to vomit all of his internal organs out his nose as he looked at Chas, dumbfounded. “Did I - did I really just do that?” he couldn’t help but question, looking down at his hands.

He was shaking.

“You didn’t just come out of the closet, love, you kicked the door off and burnt it down while you were at it,” Chas joked, flicking on the kettle.

“Mum, don’t make fun,” Aaron fixed his mother with a warning glare.

Robert couldn’t help but smile a little. “She’s not wrong, is she? There’s no going back now.” The words sounded terrifying, as they left his mouth - he was out now, wasn’t he? For all the times he’d thought about it, wondered about how it would feel to be out, he hadn’t really thought about the real, long-term consequences of it.

There was no going back, now - no way to un-out yourself.

That - that was _commitment_. That was commitment to being the person Robert wasn’t sure he was even ready to be, bisexual, and proud of it.

“Robert Jacob Sugden!”

Now that was a roar that sounded disgustingly familiar, despite the newness of his newly out life.

“Jack, calm down,” Chas directed at him.  “You’re in my house, and I’ll not have you roaring it down. He’s a kid, don’t be like this.”

“Did I ask you for advice on how to parent my son?” Jack demanded, all of his attention on Chas now, the woman dropping a cheeky wink in their direction.

Robert could have kissed her, there and then - you know, if it wouldn’t have been weird, and disgusting. She was keeping Jack’s attention on her, giving them the perfect opportunity to get out of the pub, and away from a furious Jack.

Aaron nudged Robert, and the two of them headed for the backdoor, managing to get out onto the crunchy gravel driveway before Jack copped on, his voice booming after them.

“Come on,” Aaron grabbed his hand, yanking him toward the bus stop, the bus chugging slowly toward it.

Robert broke into a jog that mirrored Aaron’s own, the two of them just about managing to catch it before it pulled away from Emmerdale’s rickety old stop, slumping into the back-row of the bus as they tried to catch their breath.

“I really did it,” Robert couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “Aaron, I just came out.”

Aaron returned the grin. “Welcome to your new gay life, eh?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They ended up in Bar West.

Robert should have expected it, really - where else should your best friend take you right after you dramatically come out to your whole village?

But still, Robert couldn’t help the way his heart thundered in his chest as he stood outside the doorway of Bar West, remembering those few times he’d quietly snuck in, shoulders rounded and head stooped for fear that anyone would see him, and know, know why he was there.

Now he was standing at the door like he belonged there, like this was a place he should be.

Well - it was, wasn’t it? This was the sort of place Robert should be, this was a place where he belonged.

A place he was supposed to belong, at least. Robert - he hadn’t ever really felt like he belonged anywhere, however sad that sounded. It was daunting, in some ways, to have this place that was specifically in existence to cater to you. The kind of daunting that had him pausing in the doorway, Aaron in front of him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie.

(No one should look that good in a hoodie, Robert decided.)

“You okay?” Aaron asked, forehead creased.

“I - I don’t know,” Robert admitted. He’d started being honest, so why stop?

Aaron moved the two of them out of the way of the steady stream of customers entering Bar West. “We don’t have to go in,” he said, voice softer than normal. This was nice Aaron, Robert recognised - the Aaron hardly anyone else got to see.

“I’ve been here before,” Robert admitted.

“Okay, then what is it? You can talk to me, you know.”

“What, are you my gay guru now?” Robert tried to joke, the words falling flat, even to him - and he was renowned for having particularly poor taste in humour.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help!”

Ah, there was the Aaron he was used to.

“I know, it's just - I didn’t plan on coming out, did I? And now I am out, and I kind of wish I could un-out myself, because maybe I wasn’t living my truest life, like all those articles say, but I didn’t feel like I was on the verge of a heart attack every second of the day and oh my God, am I dying?” Robert gasped out, his heart racing in his chest. He clutched at the front of his jumper, giving Aaron a wide eyed look.

“I think you might be having a panic attack,” Aaron said, knowledgeable. “Or, at least starting to have one,” he said, almost to himself as he directed Robert toward a window ledge, sitting him down.

Robert felt like his heart was doing it’s best to thump its way out of his chest and onto the damp, dirty pavement underneath their feet.

“Breathe, Robert,” Aaron said, his voice sounding calm compared to the incessant panic klaxon that was now going off in Robert’s brain, red, and loud, and aggressive, yelling at him to rethink what the hell he had just done.

“I can’t believe I came out,” Robert groaned, head in his heads as he tried to mimic Aaron’s slow, steady breathing.

“Well, you’ve done it now, haven’t you?”

“Thanks,” Robert said sarcastically. “That’s really helpful.”

“I’m just being honest,” Aaron shrugged, sitting down on the window ledge next to Robert. “You’ve come out now, and there’s no taking that back, so you sitting here freaking out isn’t going to achieve anything."

“I thought this was supposed to feel good,” Robert said, hating the way the world started to swim in front of him as his eyes welled up with tears. “I thought - I thought I was supposed to feel free, now.”

Aaron looked thoughtful for a second. “When did you realise you liked boys?” he inquired.

“I - I don’t know, I guess I was thirteen when I knew for sure,” Robert said. “But I guess - I guess some part of me always knew, somehow. I just realised I wasn’t supposed to feel the same way about boys, as I do girls, as I got older.”

Aaron nodded. “Makes sense,” he hummed. “So, you’ve spent seven years doing your best to completely deny who you really are,” he continued. “Right?”

“Right,” Robert confirmed.

“Coming out isn’t going to undo all of that,” Aaron said. “For seven years, you’ve pushed this big part of who you are aside - you’ve tried to pretend it wasn’t there, because you thought it was wrong. Coming out, it’s not an instant fix for all of that, for all of those messed up feelings that had you convinced that part of you was wrong, and disgusting. Coming out is - well, it’s accepting yourself, yeah, but it doesn’t fix all the damage you did to yourself all those years when you weren’t out. The shame, it doesn’t just - _disappear_.”

“I thought it would,” Robert admitted.

“That’s your fault for buying into Hollywood films,” Aaron grinned, bumping their shoulders together. “Can I tell you something though?”

Robert nodded.

“No matter how hard it is, no matter how hard I found it - I never regretted coming out,” Aaron said. “Because it was the first time in my life I was really me, and maybe I didn’t know it at the time, but I know it now. I could have shoved myself back in the closet - but then I wouldn’t have met Jackson, would I? And no matter how hard that was, it was the first time I got to be in love. I’d have missed that, if I stayed in the closet.”

Jackson. That was a name Robert hadn’t heard in a while - the boyfriend who’d helped push Aaron from angry, and frustrated, to the kind of person who could sit in a pub with his boyfriend, and not be embarrassed about it, not hide it.

The boyfriend Aaron had lost, in the end. Robert wasn’t sure he’d ever forget the nights where Chas would ring him, asking if he’d be willing to cycle around the village in the middle of the night, and try and find Aaron, because he’d gone AWOL again.

“Was it worth it? All the hurt, all the anger - was it worth it?”

“Completely,” Aaron said, without hesitation.

“Maybe I just need to shag a fella and I’ll be happier,” Robert slumped against the window, arms folded across his chest.

“I can’t believe I’m the more experienced one,” Aaron grinned. “Maybe I _am_ your gay guru.”

Robert rolled his eyes. “I’m not a complete noob,” he huffed. “I’ve kissed guys before. And I got a blowjob!”

“Aw, it’s like when Adam was too embarrassed to admit he’d never kissed a girl so he pretended he’d kissed some Year 13 around the back of the gym at school,” Aaron teased. “Was it a boy you met on holiday?”

“Get fucked,” Robert mumbled. “It was a nurse, actually, he works in Hotten General and I have his number. Surprisingly, seeing as last time he saw me, I choked on his dick in the bathrooms of Bar West.”

Aaron laughed, properly belly-laughed, the sound a relief in the midst of their serious conversation. “It happens,” he shrugged, glancing toward the bar. “How about we get some  food, and then we go back to mine, give your dad some time to calm down. I’ll even watch Game of Thrones, if it’ll cheer your sorry face up.”

Robert could have kissed him, there and then.

“Can we get burgers?” he pouted.

Aaron grinned. “You’re paying, though.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert felt like he was walking to his own execution, as he trudged up the driveway of Emmerdale Farm. He’d dragged it out for as long as humanly possible, having breakfast, and then lunch with the Dingles, before it had really come to the point where he’d had to go home, and face his father.

At least - well, at least if his dad kicked him out, Val would surely let him move in. He was starting to think Chas would, too, given the look on her face when she’d watched him leave, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Taking a deep breath, Robert pushed open the backdoor of the farm house, finding his entire family sitting inside - down to Val and bloody _Eric_ , because that was necessary.

“Robert, love, we were so worried,” Diane flustered, one look at Jack giving Robert the impression his father wasn’t even remotely worried.

“I stayed at the pub,” Robert shrugged off his stepmum’s concern. “Didn’t much feel like coming home.”

“Well, you made a holy show of yourself last night,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair, a stern look on his face. “You always have to be at the centre of attention, don’t you?”

“Yeah, well, you’ve made it very clear about how you feel about me being bisexual, dad, I don’t think we need to rehash this conversation,” Robert replied, shoving the kettle on the stove.

“Did - did you know, Jack?” Diane raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Of course he did,” Robert said, dumping a gross amount of sugar into his mug of tea. “Hardly a fan, though. No son of his was going to be a queer.”

“Don’t say words like that, Robert,” Diane looked aghast.

“As literally the only person in this house that is actually part of the gay community, I’ll say what I want,” Robert replied. “If you’re going to kick me out, dad, could you do it now, because this is boring.”

“Of course he’s not going to kick you out, love,” Diane gave his arm a squeeze. “We just - well, I wished you’d felt like you could talk to me about it, Robert. I consider you my son, I want you to feel like I’m here for you.”

Somehow, the support was suffocating.

“It’s just another one of his phases, Diane,” Jack shook his head. “He’ll be over it in a week.”

“I’ve spent the last seven years pretending like I wasn’t bisexual, and it didn’t work,” Robert snapped back. “I won’t feel any differently in a week, or a month, or a year.”

“Jack, come on, don’t be such a boring old bugger,” Val shook her head. “Rob’s into fellas, what’s the big deal? He’s not doing crack cocaine around the back of the bins somewhere, it’s hardly the end of the world. The world is a very liberal place, these days, you’re going to have to catch up.”

Jack’s silence said enough.

“Well,” Robert scooped up his cup of tea. “As much as I’m enjoying this family meeting, I need to go do some research into how I’m supposed to act, now I’m a big old poof, eh? It wouldn’t do not to live up to the name I’ve given myself.”

“Robert, don’t -”

“He doesn’t approve,” Robert interrupted, his voice trembling as he spoke. “And that’s his problem, Diane, because I’m not changing who I am for anyone, least of all for him. So if he isn’t going to build a bridge and get over it, let me know - because I’m an adult now, and I don’t have to live here, and deal with his snide remarks everyday.”

Match point.

Robert stalked out of the kitchen, and headed for the stairs, where Andy and Katie were sitting, like two idiot children. “Did you have a good listen in, then?” he couldn’t hold back his anger.

“Robert, it’s not like that -” Katie began, fake concern plastered all over her face.

“My life, is none of your business,” Robert growled.

“Robert, mate, come on,” Andy tried to intervene.

“Oh, go back to wanking over sheep, Andy, because you and I both know that whatever concern you’re showing here is just a show to prove you really are the golden boy,” Robert snapped, stomping past the two of them and up the stairs, not caring that he was sloshing tea everywhere.

He felt like he was throwing a proper temper tantrum now, but Robert didn’t really much care as he slammed his door hard enough to make the house shake, shoving his desk chair under the handle so no one could open it.

Setting his cup down on his bedside locker, Robert noticed a neatly folded sheet of paper sitting on his bed, on top of a plate of brownies - his favourite, Robert noted with a smile, triple chocolate.

Neatly written across the sheet of paper, clearly torn from one of her school copybooks, was a message from Victoria.

_I love you!_

Dipping one of the cookies in his still warm tea, Robert sat down on the edge of his bed, munching on the biscuit, mulling over the conversations he’d had with Aaron, all yesterday evening, and all last night.

Aaron _was_ a bit of a gay guru, if Robert was being honest.

Today - well, today had been the first day of the rest of his life, if you could forgive the dramatics.

And Robert was definitely not going to let his dad get in the way of that.

But -

Well, if Robert fancied eating a few too many biscuits and having a cry that evening, no one else had to know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was kind of odd, how invested Val was in his newfound life as an out and proud bisexual, but Robert mostly didn’t mind. Mostly being the operative word, his patience wearing out when Val asked over what was already a tense family dinner what Robert’s preference was when he was shagging a fella.

Which led to the SOS message he’d sent Aaron, which in turn had led to the two of them standing outside Bar West, ready to take another go at it.

“Why am I being so weird about this?” Robert said, almost to himself as he looked at the bright neon sign over the entrance. “I’ve literally been here before. Like - it’s not as if it’s my first time.”

“I could give you a philosophical speech about how its your first time going now you’re out but I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” Aaron shrugged, hands stuffed in the pocket of a hoodie again. He was wearing a shirt this time at least, making a strange amount of effort, considering Aaron was, well, Aaron.

“I’m going to get myself a new gay guru, I swear,” Robert said, shaking his head. Aaron was amazingly supportive, in his own way, but there was times that he genuinely wanted to batter him.

In a friendly, loving way.

“Well, I want a beer,” Aaron said, pushing on the door of the bar. “You joining me?”

Robert internalised his eye-roll, and followed Aaron, stepping into the depths of Bar West. It was hardly the most overwhelmingly nice bar in the world, all brick and steel interior, not exactly to his tastes, but it was still different.

 _Good different, you pillock_ , Robert told himself, following Aaron to the bar, where his friend was already ordering them two pints.

“First round is on me,” Aaron said, pocketing his change, and grabbing his pint, condensation dripping down the side of the glass. “Cheers, then.”

“What are we cheersing to?” Robert inquired, reaching for his pint.

“To you,” Aaron said simply, a sincere smile on his face. “It’s not easy, coming out - but you still managed to do it in typical over-dramatic Robert Sugden fashion, so I’m proud of ya.”

There was a sincerity to Aaron’s words that sort of made Robert want to lie down and cry in the middle of Bar West, his friend - his best friend, really - being the kind of nice Robert felt like he didn’t deserve.

“To us then,” Robert corrected, grinning. “The only gays in the village.”

Aaron laughed, that full bellied laugh that was fast becoming one of Robert’s favourite sounds. “To being the only gays in the village.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I can’t believe you didn’t pull tonight, Rob,” Aaron snorted, wobbling on his feet slightly as they stood outside the chippy, eating his greasy, cheese covered chips without a care in the world. “I would have thought boys wouldn’t stand a chance against your flirting either!”

Robert leaned against the wall, the brick cold on his back. If he was being entirely honest, he hadn’t really wanted to pull anyone. They’d spent the evening sitting in one of the booths in the back, talking, and laughing, and Robert had sort of forgotten that he’d asked Aaron to come out with him so they could both go on the pull.

“It’s not like you pulled anyone either!” Robert countered.

“I wasn’t the one who’d come out specifically to pull!” Aaron replied, cheese stuck in the scruff of his beard.

“Yeah, well,” Robert shrugged. “It’s not like anyone caught my eye is it?”

“What is your type then?”

“Really, we’re having this conversation?” Robert raised an eyebrow.

“What? It’s fun to have someone to talk to this stuff about!” Aaron said, defensive. “It’s not as if Emmerdale is swinging with people I can talk to boys about, is it?”

“I’m sure Val would love to take you under her wing,” Robert couldn’t help but tease, Hotten’s main street getting busy now, people stumbling out of pubs, and clubs, all gunning for food, or a taxi home.

When he was fifteen, he used to dream of being able to go out in Hotten, but with age comes the realisation that nightlife in their tiny corner of Yorkshire wasn’t exactly incredible. Or good, really.

“Your aunt, your problem.”

Fair.

Robert glanced around the street, thinking of the people they’d seen in Bar West that night. “I don’t really think I have a type yet,” he confided. He was sort of only letting himself be interested in guys now, and it was hard to decide if his few crushes constituted a type.

“I think you should text that nurse,” Aaron said, chewing on his chips. “You never know.”

“You never know what?”

Aaron slapped him on the back. “You just _never_ know, Robert Sugden,” he said, looking around the street. “Let’s get a taxi, I’m knackered. Being your guide to being gay is really tough on my sleep schedule.”

Robert rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re just a guy who didn’t pull tonight,” Aaron joked, binning the last of his chips. “Text the nurse! You have to listen to me, I’m your sherpa.”

“Guide, I said you were my guide,” Robert said, jogging to keep up with him. “And a shit one, at that, just so you know. Oi - that’s a rude gesture, you know, put that finger away you dick.”

Text the nurse.

Maybe - maybe he would.

(Yeah, he would.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert was going on a date.

Like - an actual date, with a boy.

A **boy**.

That - that was a weird thing to say out-loud.

He had to swallow his nerves as he approached the bar he’d arranged to meet George at, the nurse suggesting some swanky place on the nicer side of Hotten that apparently sold gourmet burgers and overpriced cocktails.

Not a bad place, for a first date.

_Come on Sugden._

_Suck it up, and go on your first date with a guy._

(God, it sounded more scary when he said it like that to himself.)

Cracking his neck, Robert pushed open the door to the bar.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert couldn’t help but touch his puffy lips as he stepped off the bus to Emmerdale, grinning to himself.

George wasn’t the most interesting person in the world, if Robert was being entirely honest with himself. He liked his job a little too much for Robert’s liking, and he didn’t exactly enjoying hearing stories about his patients (sue him, he wasn’t an empathetic person) but he was good-looking.

Like, really good-looking.

Good-looking enough to have Robert back in the creaky bed of his shared flat, kissing him for all he was worth, nerves gone as he really, actually, properly had sex with a guy for the first time in his life.

It was weird, to have two first times. Robert had thought he had done all the nerves, all the awkwardness back when he was fifteen, but he’d done it all over again last night, trying his best not to let on that he was very green around the ears when it came to sleeping with a guy.

George had sort of figured it out. Not in a overly explicit way, but he’d been weirdly instructive, in the beginning. But really, Robert knew his way around his own dick, so another guys wasn’t entirely different, was it?

He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he walked toward the garage, scheduled on for a shift that morning. It was probably written all over his face, the fact he’d just gotten laid, but Robert didn’t really have it in him to care as he gave Pearl an over-enthusiastic greeting, whistling to himself as he approached the garage.

Aaron knew straight away. Of course he bloody knew, the knowing little shit.

“I’m guessing your date went well?”

Robert couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. “He’s boring as fuck, but great in bed,” he shrugged, hanging up his jacket.

“Well, you’re a card-carrying member of the LGBT community now,” Aaron chucked a dirty, oil covered rag at his face, making Robert splutter with annoyance. “We’ve got an engine rebuild to get working on, Casanova, get your arse in gear."

“My beautiful, hot nurse pulling arse, thank you very much.”

  


  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert - well, he could get used to this being out thing, he really could. His dad was still a prick, sure, but he’s not even sure a personality transplant could save Jack Sugden from himself.

But he was having fun. Not the level of fun he’d have been having on his gap year, sure, but he was still having fun - he’d gone on a few dates with George, and had some pretty banging sex before he’d decided to break it off, not particularly interested in going down relationship lane with the nurse.

He wasn’t really sure why, to be entirely honest - he was a perfectly nice guy, but Robert had sort of bailed on him to hang out with Aaron one too many times to pretend as though he was overly interested. You didn’t skip a date to hang out with your best mate if you were actually interested in a guy.

“You look like your brain is about to melt out your ears,” Aaron commented, the two of them lying on Aaron’s bedroom floor, passing a joint between them. Robert wasn’t much of a smoker, normally, but he was a bit drunk, and he sort of could never say no to Aaron.

“I’m high as tits, Aaron,” Robert snorted, laughing out loud. “I feel like my brain is melting out of my ears.”

Aaron responded by laughing, the sound almost musical to Robert’s ears. “I’m glad you didn’t leave, Robert - I know you really wanted to go travelling and all that, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Robert turned his head, practically nose to nose with Aaron now. “I’m glad I’m here too,” he admitted. “My - my big plan was to come out when I went travelling, get off the plane in Thailand and be a whole new person. But - I’m starting to wonder if I’d have been able to do that, you know? I don’t know if I would have been able to do any of this without you.”

“Of course you could have!” Aaron shook his head. “I’ve done nowt.”

“Don’t say that,” Robert couldn’t quite tear his gaze away from Aaron, his eyes seeming even bluer than normal in the dim lighting of Aaron’s room. “You’ve helped me so much, Aaron.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “I’ve taken the piss out of you more than I’ve helped,” he replied, the joint burning down to the end, Aaron sticking it in the mug of water he had next to him.

It was cold, in Aaron’s room, the window open to try and disguise the smell from Chas, and Robert couldn’t help but shiver.

“You cold?” Aaron inquired.

“A little,” Robert admitted, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arms. “Can I borrow a jumper?”

Aaron nodded, sitting up for long enough to yank one of his jumpers out of the nearby chest of drawers, tossing it at Robert’s head. “You big baby.”

“Okay, it’s freezing, just for your information,” Robert said, shrugging the jumper on. It came up a little short on the arms, if he was being honest, but it was comfy, and he felt immediately better as he laid back down.

Aaron laughed again, the sound filling the room.

“And you have helped, you know,” Robert said. “This is all so new to me, and whenever I have a stupid question to ask, you answer, no judgement.”

“What are friends for?” was Aaron’s simple response.

“You’re my best friend, you know,” Robert admitted, turning on his side, the two of them nose to nose again. “I’ve never had a best friend.”

“That’s sad.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

Aaron shifted so his hands were tucked under his head, a soft smile on his face. “Adam’s my best friend,” he said cheekily.

“I can’t believe I come second to Adam Barton,” Robert gave a dramatic sigh. “What do I have to do to win you over, Dingle?”

“I’ve got room in my heart for both of you, don’t worry,” Aaron reassured with a grin, shifting closer to Robert. “Your hair looks funny.”

Robert let out a huffing breath, blowing his fringe upward. “I should probably get a haircut,” he admitted, knowing his hair had gotten overly long over the past few months. He’d sort of been preoccupied, and he had just never gotten around to having a proper haircut.

“No, I like it,” Aaron shrugged, reaching out and brushing his fingers through Robert’s fringe. “It suits you.”

“I didn’t realise you had such strong opinions on my hair,” Robert teased.

“You’re the one who tells me daily that I use too much hair gel.”

“You do use too much hair gel,” Robert replied, poking Aaron’s cheek.

“Oi, get off!”

“Nope,” Robert shook his head, poking Aaron again.

“Robert, seriously, stop it.”

“Make me,” the threat left Robert’s mouth before he could even think about it too much.

Aaron clearly didn’t need too long to think about it either, flipping Robert under him, pinning Robert’s hands above his head. “I said, stop it,” he said, his voice rough and angry, the cheeky glint in his eye betraying his true feelings.

Robert tilted his chin upward, barely holding in a smile. “Alright, tough guy,” he said. “You proved your point.”

He sort of didn’t want to admit how much Aaron pinning him to the floor was turning him on, his best friend’s weight pressing down in a way that very much had the potential to make their friendship very weird.

Very, very weird.

Aaron was close enough that Robert could feel the warm pant of his breath against his face, his friend’s startlingly blue eyes fixed on Robert’s. Before - before he could really do anything, or move, Aaron leaned in, and kissed him.

Actually, properly kissed him.

Robert couldn’t hold in the muffled noise of surprise he let out as Aaron kissed him, Aaron pulling back just enough to judge Robert’s reaction. The concern on Aaron’s face melted Robert’s heart, if he was being honest, Aaron so obviously worried he’d done the wrong thing.

Robert tilted his chin upward, pressing his lips to Aaron’s chastely.

And then not-so-chastely, Aaron’s tongue hot, and wet, and insistent against his own, Aaron letting Robert’s wrists go so he could knot his fingers in Robert’s hair, Robert’s heart thumping out through his chest as Aaron kissed him senseless, hips grinding down against Robert’s own.

(If he woke up, and all this has just been a ridiculous, weed induced fever dream, Robert was going to be so mad.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t exactly unusual for Robert to wake up in Aaron’s bed. He - well, he usually woke up fully clothed in Aaron’s bed, so that was the unusual part, his trousers very much not on his body.

Aaron usually wasn’t passed out, snoring on Robert’s chest, either.

Robert stared, wide-eyed at the ceiling, memories of the previous night flooding back.

So, Aaron pinning his hips to the floor and sucking him off like it was an Olympic sport hadn’t been something his drug addled brain had made up.

“I can hear you thinking,” Aaron mumbled, not looking as though he had any intention to move anytime soon, his voice slightly muffled by the material of Robert’s t-shirt. “Stop it.”

“I don’t think you can stop thinking entirely,” Robert replied, still staring at the ceiling.

He wasn’t really sure what else to do.

“You gave it a pretty good go last night,” Aaron smirked, shifting so he was lying on his side, able to look at Robert properly. “Are you freaking out?” he inquired, brow furrowing with confusion.

“A little.”

“You - was last night a mistake?” Aaron asked. “Because if it was, you can just tell me. I’m not - I’m not going to be mad about it. We were high, and this sort of thing, it happens, Rob, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Robert couldn’t help but smile. “Who’s the one freaking out now?”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “You’re a dick,” he muttered, sitting up properly, picking at a loose thread in his duvet cover. “You’ve got to talk to me, Robert. I can’t read your mind.”

Robert struggled into a sitting position, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m thinking that last night was unexpected,” he admitted, studying Aaron’s face carefully. His friend had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and Robert could see apprehension painted right across every inch of Aaron’s face. “And I’m also thinking that I’ve spent the last year thinking about how bloody attractive you are, and knowing I’d never have a chance with you, because I never thought I’d actually come out.”

Aaron’s expression turned to one of wonder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Robert confirmed. “And I’m thinking that I had a lot of fun, last night, but I can’t help but worry about how it might change our friendship, and considering you’re the most important person in my life, that makes me nervous.”

Aaron nodded, taking a second to let Robert’s words wash over him before he replied. “I am...  I am thinking that I’ve liked you for a long time,” he admitted. “And until you said all that, I was worried you’d only let last night happen because you’re stuck here in Emmerdale, and I’m your only option.”

“Aaron, no - no way, don’t think that -”

Aaron smiled at him, taking one of Robert’s hands in his own. “I know, I know - I just want to be honest with you, okay?”

Robert felt his panic reside, and he nodded, glancing down at Aaron’s hand in his own, the feeling unfamiliar. Aaron’s hands were rougher, than anyone else he’d ever been with, the result of years working with engines, and yet - yet somehow, they were hands he already knew. Hands that had talked him down from panics, and furious anger, hands that had happily wrapped around Robert’s waist when he’d broken down and cried, lonely and wishing his mum was still here.

“And I.. I am thinking that I know how scary it is to date a guy, for the first time, and that I would never put you under any sort of like, pressure, to go there when you’re not ready to,” Aaron continued. “But I would really like if you wanted to go there with me, someday.”

Robert couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy, as Aaron’s words sank in. Aaron wanted to date him.

That was - that was a turnaround, from a few months ago, wasn’t it?

“I would really like that,” Robert admitted, grinning as Aaron huffed out a relieved breath. “I just…”

“You know, adding in a but right after you say you want to go out with me isn’t great for a guy’s confidence, Rob,” Aaron rolled his eyes, the good natured tone of his voice not hiding the concern in his eyes.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be any good at actually like - going out with a guy,” Robert admitted. “I’m honestly a little terrified about it.”

“That’s okay -”  


“ _But_.”

“One more but, Robert Sugden, and I am going to slap you,” Aaron threatened, shaking his head.

“ _But,_ I want to try.” Robert said, decisive. “Just, be patient with me, please.”

Aaron gave Robert’s hand a squeeze, a new sort of smile on his face now - a smile Robert had put there, he realised. “You don’t know how patient I’ve already had to be,” he admitted, betraying just how long he’d been interested in Robert for the first time. “You’re a very trying person, Robert.”

“Oi, that’s no way to talk about your new boyfriend!”

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m your boyfriend? You haven’t even taken me on a date yet!”

Robert grinned. “You free on Saturday?”

“I am, but you aren’t,” Aaron reminded. “You’ve got Andy’s stag-do, remember?”

Robert grimaced. “I’d have preferred it if you had told me that I was being sentenced to death on Saturday,” he mumbled, not exactly overjoyed at the prospect of the full day event his brother’s stag-do was turning out to be. Robert, he’d planned for it to be a quiet one - food and enough drink to be sure Andy wasn’t standing, let alone speaking, by the end of the night, but somehow, it had turned into a full day, paintballing, go-karting, drinking extravaganza.

“If you’re nice, I’ll let you take me for hangover pub lunch on Sunday,” Aaron said, patting Robert’s cheek.  “Now fuck off, because I have work in an hour and you’re very distracting.”

  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert was too sober. Like, really, he was too sober to be standing in a muddy field with his brother, holding a paintball gun and pretending as though he didn’t want to lie down and die.

Apparently, operating a paintball gun while drunk wasn’t recommended.

“You think we can take the Bartons out?” Andy inquired.

 _I wish I could take you out_ , Robert thought to himself, itching to pull the trigger and shoot Andy right in the knee.

“Yeah, maybe,” Robert said, non-committal as he looked around the field, the shoddy paintballing course hardly worth the money they’d forked out for it.

“You could at least pretend you’re having fun, you know,” Andy said pointedly, sticking his head up over the bales of hay they were standing behind.

“Yeah, well, I have a lot on my mind,” Robert shrugged, sliding down so he was sitting on the floor, entirely disinterested.

“Dad will get over it, you know,” Andy said. “What you did.”

“And what did I do exactly?”

“I’m not saying nowt about you liking fellas,” Andy shook his head. “You yelling about dicks in the pub though, I can see why Dad isn’t too happy about that. You know him, Robert, he likes people to think we’re one big happy family.”

“He’s pretty bad at portraying that image.”

“Well, we’ve not made it easy for him, have we?” Andy pointed out, sitting down next to Robert.

“Your personality grates on my nerves, what can I say?” Robert drawled in response.

“Why do you hate me so much, Robert?” Andy inquired, as if the answer to that question wasn’t wildly fucking obvious. The whole, killing their mother thing for one. Their father loving him more, that didn’t help.

“It gives me something to do,” Robert replied, glancing to the left. “I should probably warn out that we’re about to be ambushed, because stag-do’s are apparently no fun if we don’t batter you in some way.”

“Why warn me?”

“Because then I don’t have to apologise for shooting you,” Robert responded, pulling the trigger of his paintball gun, and shooting Andy right in the knee.

And Jack was the one who said Robert was a poor marksman.

  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert had been trying to catch Aaron’s eye all night, if he was being honest. It was inevitable that they’d end up back in the Woolpack, and so Robert had been more than delighted to be there when he saw Aaron behind the bar, filling in for his mum, who was off on Katie’s hen-do.

A hen-do that was now sitting at the opposite end of their tiny local, because God forbid Andy and Kate spend a proper night apart.

“Do you think you can sneak away for a bit?” Robert inquired, leaning against the bar, pretending to get another round in.

“And why would I do that?” Aaron inquired, feigning confusion.

“Because,” Robert said. “I haven’t been able to kiss you in days, and I miss it. I miss you.”

“You’re so needy,” Aaron teased, a happy glint to his eye that betrayed his true feelings. “Come around to the backdoor in ten, Bob is due back off his break and I’ll duck away then.”

“Okay,” Robert handed over the twenty pound note he’d been scrunching in his fist, taking the tray of freshly pulled pints from the counter, weaving his way through the crowd.

“Ah, there’s my best man,” Andy slurred, thankfully waiting until Robert had set the drinks down before he slapped Robert across the back unnecessarily hard. “This - this is my brother, you know?”

“Yeah, I think they know, Andy,” Robert barely held in an eyeroll. There was hardly a single person in the room who hadn’t known them since they were in nappies, there wasn’t really any need to confirm the familial connection.

At least _four_ people in the pub had intervened to break up an epic Sugden brothers punch-up.

“And - and he likes fellas, you know,” Andy continued, hanging off Robert now. “And I love him."

Robert didn’t bother to hide his grimace.

“Aw, isn’t that sweet?” Ross smirked. “Proper tug at the heartstrings kind of stuff, this. Andy supporting his gay brother.”

“Well, I’m not gay, first of all,” Robert snarked back. “And I’d watch yourself, if I were you, because I got Donna into bed when you were supposed to be her boyfriend, and I doubt it would be too hard to get that weird brother of yours into bed next time he visits.”

Ross’ face darkened, Robert having clearly touched a nerve. “What are you saying about my brother, Sugden?”

Robert smirked. “Who’s to say I haven’t shagged him already?” he said, doing what he had always done best, push and push and push until someone breaks. “I could tell you all about it, if you want - about your baby brother -”

Okay, so maybe the punch in the face was deserved.

But it was also worth it.

“Don’t - don’t be a homophobe!” Andy piped up, hardly steady enough to stand up straight, let alone to respond to Ross’ punch.

“S’alright Andy, I needed some fresh air anyway,” Robert said, directing his brother toward Jimmy, who was in a similar state of absolute drunkenness, and Pete, who looked fit to kill both Robert, and Ross.

Wiping at the blood dripping down his chin, Robert headed for the front door, the freezing cold December air hitting him like a tonne of bricks as he circled the pub, leaning against the wall to wait for Aaron.

“You know, I wouldn’t recommend shagging Finn,” Aaron commented as he opened the back door, only looking slightly exasperated as he handed Robert a wad of tissues, scanning Robert’s face. “You’re not too deformed, at least.”

“Wait - what, you’ve shagged Finn?” Robert knew the flare of jealousy that erupted in his stomach was entirely unjustified, but he couldn’t do much to get rid of it, not when he knew what it felt like to kiss Aaron.

No one, least of all Finn Barton, was allowed to know how that felt, if you asked him.

Aaron shrugged. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Robert,” he said.

“It’s not jealousy, it’s curiosity!”

“It was after I broke up with Ed,” Aaron said after a second of silence. “And I was sad, and single, and he was there.”

“Was he any good?”

“Robert, don’t be weird, because if you’re going to get all weird and jealous, I will leave you out here to rot,” Aaron warned.

“Sorry, I - I’m sorry,” Robert said, sincere in his apology.

Aaron sort of just stared him down.

“I’m sorry,” Robert repeated, reaching for one of Aaron’s hands. “Okay?”

Aaron didn’t reply, easing his fingers out of Robert’s grip, taking the tissue from Robert and dabbing at his split lip. “Bit counterproductive, to get punched in the face right before you sneak off with me,” he commented.

“Why?”

“Because,” Aaron grinned. “Kissing you is going to be no fun now.”

“I’m not a baby, I can handle kissing you with a split lip!” Robert practically pouted.

“Really?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.

“Really,” Robert replied, defiant.

Aaron leaned in, and pressed his lips to Robert, Robert unable to hold in a wince as the embrace aggravated his newly split lip. “See?” he said, a smug look on his face. “You’re no use to me now.”

Robert really, properly full on pouted this time.

“You’re a baby,” Aaron laughed, pressing a kiss to the non-injured side of Robert’s mouth. “Do you want to stay here tonight? I don’t think anyone is going to expect you back after that stunt.”

Robert slumped against the wall. “I can’t wait for this one to get back to my dad.”

“Mood-killer.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Robert shook his head. “It’s not been easy with Jack, these past few weeks.”

“All the more reason to stay,” Aaron said. “I’ll lock my door and we can just live in there forever, you and me.”

“What about food?”

“I have cereal bars and chocolate.”

“A balanced diet.”

“And if we ask nicely, Marlon might leave us dinner every now and then,” Aaron continued, a silly grin on his face. “And then it can be you and me, all on our own, no annoying dad, or interfering villagers.”

“That sounds dreamy,” Robert hummed his agreement.

“It’ll get easier, you know,” Aaron said. “One day, it will. I promise you.”

Robert - he was pretty sure he could fall in love with Aaron, given the chance. Making grabby hands at Aaron, who responded with an all too familiar eye-roll before he wrapped his arms around Robert’s shoulders, pulling him close, Robert pressed his face to the material of Aaron’s shirt.

“I still haven’t taken you on that date, you know,” Robert mumbled, breathing in the excessive amount of Lynx Aaron had apparently drenched himself in that morning.

“I’m still waiting for you to ask.”

“How is Friday?” Robert asked, pulling back just enough so he could look at Aaron’s face, and gauge his reaction.

“Friday is perfect,” Aaron replied, fingers messing with the overly long hair at the back of Robert’s neck.

“Sounds good, short-stuff.”

“Short-stuff?!” Aaron’s reply was as indignant as Robert expected it to be.

Robert grinned wickedly. “You’ve got to stand on your tip-toes just to be able to get your arms around my neck,” he pointed out, glancing down at Aaron’s feet, the toes of his sneakers scuffing into the dirt.

“And yet, I’m _still_ in the perfect position to strangle you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert Sugden was on a proper date with Aaron Dingle.

An actual, proper date.

He couldn’t have imagined this would be his life, all those months ago when he’d first gotten the call about Jack’s heart attack, when Diane had first convinced him that he had to stay, to help out while Jack got better.

It - it wasn’t exactly the life he’d dreamed of for years, a year of travelling and seeing the world and being the person he’d always been too afraid to be in Emmerdale, but looking at Aaron, sitting next to him in the pub they’d come to after dinner, knee knocking against Robert’s own, he couldn’t help but almost be glad he’d had a reason to stay in Emmerdale long enough for something to happen between them.

“You think too much,” Aaron commented, taking a swig of his pint. “And that gin and tonic makes you look like a ponce.”

“A ponce you’re on a date with,” Robert countered, leaning back so he could throw an arm over the back of the seat, enjoying a semblance of smoothness for a second before Aaron shot him a knowing look. “And I’m thinking that a few months ago, I could never have imagined going on a date with a guy in Hotten, of all places, and yet here I am - because of you.”

“Don’t give me too much credit.”

“I’m only giving you the credit you deserve,” Robert shrugged. “I’m not - I’m not trying to rush whatever it is that is happening between us, but I like you Aaron, a lot, and whatever happens, this, what we’ve got going on right now, it's good, and I’m grateful for it.”

“Sap,” Aaron mumbled affectionately, a soft look in his eyes. “When - when you told me you were leaving, I didn’t know what to do with myself. You drive me mad, you do, but you’ve always been a good mate, Robert, and - well, now you’re more, aren’t you? And it's good, it’s definitely good.”

Robert was pretty sure he was dying. “I’m glad I stayed,” he admitted, leaning in to press a kiss to Aaron’s lips. He’d not had the confidence to do this when he’d gone on a date with George, but somehow - somehow he did now. It’s not as if it was a magically easy thing to do, but Robert was mainly just impressed he’d done it.

Aaron’s expression was an almost prideful one, as they broke apart. “Not a bad first date, eh?” he said softly, that gorgeous, oh-so gentle version of Aaron he was still getting used to knowing making an appearance.

Robert returned the smile.  “Not bad at all, Dingle.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert didn’t exactly hate weddings. He wasn’t entirely sure of his position on the whole institution of marriage, if he was being entirely honest, but he didn’t hate them. He hated them when it was his idiot brother getting married, and when Jack was sitting, gushing over Andy and Katie’s boring as anything vows, and he hated it even more when he was sitting at the top table, a best man who’d come stag to a wedding.

According to everyone else, at least.

Aaron knew, sitting at a table with a varying array of Dingles, a pint in hand, and a perpetually bored look on his face as the wedding unfolded. Really, it was cruel to make anyone spend their Christmas day pretending as though they cared about Katie and Andy.

It had been avery cliché, boring wedding ceremony, if you asked him – all sappy vows, and cheesy music – and he’d had to stand beside Andy the entire time, a fake smile plastered on his face, as Jack had looked on, his father having long since perfected the ability of being able to look delighted by Andy, and disappointed in Robert’s entire existence all at the same time.

And now Jack was giving him a death glare every time Robert looked as though he was going to reach for a refill for his wine, which was as fun as you’d imagine.

Before Robert could think about something he could do to liven the whole depressing party up, someone else did it for him - namely Debbie Dingle, who burst through the door of the village hall like a woman on a mission, a furious look on her face.

Debbie Dingle. Robert rather liked her, if she was being honest - she was feisty as hell, and knew her way around an engine, and was far more entertaining a person than half the village was.

He had been curious as to why she hadn’t come to the wedding, if he was being honest. 99% of the village were there, dressed in their finery and enjoying Jack’s overly generous open bar (Robert would be lucky to get a pat on the back if he ever got married.)

“Happy wedding day,” she said, her words dripping with sarcasm as she spoke, all eyes on her now.

“Debbie, get out,” Andy stood up suddenly, looking furious.

 _Drama_.

“Not before I give your wife a wedding present,” Debbie practically growled, marching toward the top table and slamming something down in front of Katie.

A photo, by the looks of it.

A scan photo, Robert realised, eyes widening as he put two and two together and presumably made four.

“What is this?”

“It’s his baby,” Debbie said, glaring at Andy. “Yeah, you heard me - your precious son knocked up a Dingle, Jack.”

Robert raised his hands in defence. “It wasn’t me. I’m more into fellas, at the moment, if I’m honest, so there’s not much chance of me getting them pregnant,” he said, quietening down at a glare from Jack.

“Why would you lie about something like this?” Katie asked, her voice shaking. She was standing up now, looking at the scan photo as if it was going to jump up and bite her.

“I’m not lying,” Debbie said, staring right at Andy. “I can tell you every time we met, I can tell you where you were - he’s been cheating on you, Katie, and he’s tried to buy me off so I wouldn’t tell you I was pregnant.”

Robert wouldn’t have thought Andy had it in him, if he was honest.

“She’s seventeen, Sugden!” Cain’s irate shout cut through the thick, heavy atmosphere that had fallen over the room.

Questionable, Robert had to agree. He just about managed to duck out of the way as Cain barrelled for the top table, gunning for Andy. Robert would have maybe stepped in out of some sort of brotherly obligation if it had been Pete, but he wasn’t completely insane - he wasn’t going to fight Cain Dingle, of all people.

Katie’s screaming could have raised the dead. In all honesty, Robert would have paid good money, there and then, to shut her up, just so he didn’t have to listen to her incessant shrieking any more, her marriage to Andy already a shambles, the ink hardly even dry on their marriage license.

“I’m too sober for this,” Robert sighed, reaching for a discarded bottle of wine, watching the chaos unfold. Cain was currently being held back from punching Andy’s lights out, which in itself was disappointing, because Robert wouldn’t exactly hate seeing Andy take a punch from Cain, and Jack was flitting between berating his son for being an idiot, and mindlessly defending him to Cain, despite all signs pointing to Andy being the one in the wrong, here.   
  
“I thought you were supposed to be the dramatic one,” a familiar voice interjected. Robert turned, and he couldn’t help but smile as he realised it was Aaron. In true Aaron Dingle style, he hadn’t even begun to try getting dressed up for the wedding, wearing his usual black jeans and runners, his ironed t-shirt (Chas, no doubt) the only semblance of effort.   
  
“I can throw a tantrum about the fact you’re not in a suit, if you’d like,” Robert offered, winking at the younger man. He couldn’t help himself, okay? Aaron had a body to die for, and Robert already knew what was under the tight cotton of Aaron’s t-shirt.

He was only human.  
  
Aaron reached for the bottle of wine, taking a swig. “You not going to get involved, defend your brother?” he inquired cheekily, knowing Robert would rather walk over broken glass than get involved with Andy’s weird and apparently _very_ fucked up love life.   
  
“You not going to get involved, defend your cousin?” Robert mimicked, returning Aaron’s cheeky grin as he swiped the wine, taking another drink.   
  
“Nah, she can handle herself,” Aaron shook his head,hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. “I’d rather help you reclaim your title as the dramatic one.”   
  
“And how do you propose we do that?”   
  
Aaron smirked, rocking up on his tiptoes so he could press a less than chaste kiss to Robert’s lips, knowing full well it would probably give Jack heart attack number two of the year, Robert eagerly kissing him back.

It didn’t feel as scary as he imagined it would, kissing Aaron in front of everyone in the village - Robert had done his dramatic coming out, but he hadn’t exactly gone the whole hog, and kissed a boy in front of the people who’d known him since he was in nappies.

His heart was thundering in his chest as he and Aaron broke apart, and Robert wasn’t entirely sure if it was because he’d just kissed Aaron in public, or if it was because kissing Aaron just made him feel that way anyway.   
  
“Robert! Robert, what the hell are you doing? Robert, get over here!”

“Let’s go,” Robert grinned, taking Aaron’s hand in his own and heading for the door, Jack’s shouting following them out into the crisp December evening, Aaron shivering as the harsh cold hit the two of them, their jackets left behind in the chaos of what was supposedly the happiest day of Andy and Katie’s life together.

“Sorry I - I shouldn’t have kissed you like that,” Aaron shook his head, suddenly looking apologetic. “I didn’t even ask if you were ready to do that, to -”

Robert knew it was all sorts of cliche, but he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss Aaron to shut him up. “You worry too much,” he said softly. “If you’d asked, I don’t think I would have ever been ready. But I like you, Aaron, and I don’t care who knows, I don’t care if my dad knows. Okay? I want people to know.”

“Are you ready for that?” Aaron asked.

Robert didn’t reply, instead he kissed Aaron for all he was worth, a hand in the younger man’s hair as he kissed away every protest and concern Aaron could possibly come up with. “Are you going to take me back to yours or not?” he asked, a wicked grin on his face.

Aaron titled his head to the side. “Bit forward, for a second date, innit?” he teased.

Robert raised an eyebrow. “Says the man who got me into bed before we even got on a first date.”

“Mm, you are a bit easy, aren’t you?”

“Shut up, you love it,” Robert shoved at him, waggling the bottle of wine at Aaron. “I have wine, and I’m very slutty when I drink red wine, so your choice.”  

Aaron laughed, that wonderfully, gorgeous, belly laugh that seemed to come from his toes, tugging on Robert’s hand, leading him across the road to the pub. “How slutty?” he inquired, unlocking the back door.

Robert really, really enjoyed the way Aaron’s face went bright purple as Robert whispered in his ear, the adrenaline and the promise of an empty house for a few hours turning him on way too much.

(A therapist would have a field day with Robert.)

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Sugden,” Aaron said, cheeks still flushed bright red, pure, unfiltered want in his eyes.

“I never do,” Robert said, happily letting Aaron drag him upstairs, and quite literally throw him on Aaron’s bed, the bottle of wine discarded for later.

Hardly a bad way to end the world’s most boring wedding.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert was acutely aware he was going home looking like he’d been shagged ten ways to Sunday, his hair standing on end, his suit a crumpled mess, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he strolled back to the farm, having gotten very little sleep and not feeling the slightest bit sorry about it.

He was sure he was going to get an absolute earful from Jack when he got back, but there wasn’t a single part of him that cared, as he crunched across the frosty gravel driveway of the farm, nudging the heavy old door open.

The atmosphere in the kitchen was so tense you could practically cut through it with a knife, the entire Sugden family sitting around the table.

“Morning all,” Robert greeted, flicking on the kettle. “Who died?”

“Robert, don’t you start,” Jack shook his head, looking as though he hadn’t slept a wink. “You’ve not got a leg to stand on, not bothering to come home last night when your family needed you.”

“I doubt there was much I could have said to help,” Robert shrugged, making himself a cup of tea. He wasn’t exactly sure where he’d left his tie, a vague memory of it ending up hanging over Aaron’s lamp flashing through his mind as he stirred some sugar into his tea.

“Jack, Robert is not the issue here,” Diane said softly, putting a hand on her husband’s arm. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about than where Robert slept last night.”

 _Thank you, Diane_.

Robert settled himself in a chair next to Victoria, deciding Jack was likely to batter him if he tried to escape the emergency family meeting they were currently having to discuss how best to cover up Andy’s infidelity, he assumed.

“How could you have been so careless, Andy?” Jack directed at his son, the disappointment palatable.

If this was how it looked to everyone else when Robert was getting a dressing down from their father, he could see why Andy and Katie always enjoyed it so much. It was like watching a soap opera, except it was very much real.

“I made a mistake, dad,” Andy defended.

“A mistake you’ll be paying for the rest of your damn life!” Jack slammed a fist on the table, looking furious. “God, Andy, you’re supposed to be starting your life out with Katie. Why would she ever forgive you for this?”

“I thought - Debbie and I agreed she’d get rid of it,” Andy said, sounding absolutely pitiful.

“That it is your child, Andy, not an it,” Jack practically growled. “You are going to step up, and you’re going to raise this child. No son of mine is going to be an absent father.”

Robert should probably invest in a filter for his big, stupid mouth. “Good thing I can’t get Aaron pregnant, eh?” he joked, the slap he received from Jack not entirely unexpected.

Sore, but not _entirely_ unexpected.

“Jack!” Diane at least had the audacity to sound offended.

“Both of my sons, shacking up with Dingles!” Jack looked as if he was going to keel over, and have another heart attack.

Robert scraped back his chair, unable to hold in his own anger. “Bet you’d prefer if I’d gone and knocked some girl up though, wouldn’t you? Rather than see me with a fella.”

“This is not about you, Robert.”

“Thought I’d be brotherly, and take some of the heat off Andy,” Robert said sarcastically. “Let me know when you stop being a homophobe, dad, because Aaron is my boyfriend, and that isn’t changing any time soon.”

He dumped his mug in the sink, ignoring his father’s shouts as he stomped upstairs, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him.

Dickhead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His feet had sort of just carried him to Aaron’s door, if he was being honest. He’d packed a bag, snuck down the stairs when it sounded like an uncomfortable silence had settled over the house, everyone holed up in their rooms pretending as if the Sugden family was not falling apart around them, and he’d just started walking.

Walking to Aaron’s, apparently.

Aaron had seen him in all sorts of states, in the past couple of weeks - he’d talked Robert through plenty of coming out related panics, so it’s not as though seeing Robert in a vulnerable state was new.

But this felt different, somehow.

It was probably time he told Aaron everything.

It was cold enough that Robert could see his breath, as he waited for Aaron to answer the door, not wanting to risk waking up Chas. He - well, he could deal with all of that tomorrow, couldn’t he?

Now, he just wanted Aaron.

“What happened?” Aaron’s face was creased with concern as he opened the door, already in his pyjamas - a scruffy old hoodie and the most garishly patterned pair of pyjama bottoms Robert had ever seen.

He filed the pyjamas away to joke about later, swallowing thickly.

“Dad slapped me,” he admitted, feeling tears welling up in the back of his throat, thick, and heavy, and ready to fall, as though a dam was about to break, a dam he’d been building for years, and years.

Aaron looked immediately angry. “He what?”

“I mean - he’s old school, you know? He was never opposed to giving one of us a slap if we were getting out of line,” Robert said, all in a rush, the floodgates open now. “But this - this was different Aaron, it was. It was like when he found out.”

“Robert, you’re - you’re not making sense,” Aaron looked as though he was trying to desperately understand, his eyes wide with concern. “What did your dad find out?”

Robert shivered, the thin coat he was wearing not doing much against the bitterly cold December air. “He found out when I was fifteen,” he blurted, a flood of memories he’d done so much to try and repress, to try and block out and pretend weren’t really, coming back all at once.

Tom, the farmhand. The feeling of the older boys lips against his own, as they kissed for the first time, a nervous Robert giving in to the feelings he’d tried to pretend weren’t there since he was old enough to realise he wasn’t supposed to like boys the way he liked girls.

The cold metal of his dad’s belt buckle against his back, the look on Jack’s face as he’d put two and two together and declared angrily that no one of his was ever going to be that way inclined.

The mottled purple, and yellow, and black bruises that had lingered on his back for weeks, a painful reminder of how much of a disappointment he was to his father forcing him to skip P.E for weeks, until they were healed enough for him to not die of shame in the school changing rooms, terrified anyone would ask, and would ask why Jack had done it.

Robert couldn’t stop crying, now he’d started, violent, hysterical, ugly sobs wracking his body as he stood on Aaron’s doorstep, helpless and hopeless, back to the fifteen year old boy who’d been so scared of his father’s reaction to who he was, he’d buried it. He’d buried it as deep as he could go, plastering over the hurt and pain with a mask of snark and self confidence, burying it until the day he could leave Emmerdale, and never come back, finally came about.

“Hey, hey - it’s okay,” Aaron pulled Robert close to his chest, letting Robert sob into his hoodie, gentle, familiar hands smoothing across Robert’s shoulders. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

God knows how long they stood there, Robert’s body stiff with cold, tired right to the depths of his bones as he finally cried himself out, years of pent up anger, and frustration finally having their release.

“You’re cold,” Aaron commented, hands warm against Robert’s cheeks. “Come on, I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“‘M sorry,” Robert said, shuffling in the door after Aaron, his boyfriend closing the door to the kitchen gently behind them.

“What have you got to be sorry for?” Aaron raised an eyebrow, flicking on the kettle, busying himself making tea for the both of them. The living room was blissfully warm after Robert’s long, cold walk down from the farm, something comforting, and familiar about the decor of a room he’d only really come to know in the last few months.

“Did you miss me having a breakdown on your doorstep?” Robert raised an eyebrow.

Aaron’s brow furrowed. “It seemed like you needed that, if I’m honest,” he admitted, padding across the room, tea in hand. “What happened, Robert?”

Robert let out a shuddering sigh. The cat was well and truly out of the bag now, he supposed, and there was no putting it back in, pretend as though everything was fine, and it had just been a silly bust up with his father.

“I - we had this farmhand, when I was fifteen,” he began, taking a sip of his tea to steady himself. “Tom, his name was Tom.”

“Did you like him?” Aaron asked softly, an understanding in his eyes that made Robert want to curl into a ball and just cease to exist, if he was honest.

What had he ever done to deserve him?

Robert nodded, the movement taking every inch of strength he had. “I was fifteen,” he admitted. “And Tom was nice - he made me feel special, and I finally had a friend of my own on the farm. Helped he thought Andy was an almighty twat, too,” he laughed awkwardly, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Aaron tried his best to return the smile, but he found he could hardly bear to mould his face into the happy expression, knowing that the story Robert was telling him was in no way a happy one.

“He kissed me for the first time, up on the top field,” Robert continued, looking down at his hands. “We’d been messing about, teasing each other, and then he just kissed me, out of nowhere. It - it was nice, it was really nice. We ended up kissing a few more times, around the back of the barn, places where no one could see us, you know? But I got curious, I wondered what it would be like to go further, so I brought him back to the house, to my room.”

Aaron couldn’t help but reach out, taking one of Robert’s hands in his house, squeezing his fingers tightly, Robert giving him a grateful smile at the show of support.

“I don’t - I don’t know how I didn’t hear my dad coming in,” Robert admitted, his grip on Aaron’s hand like a vice. “I always hear him coming in, but I was distracted, I guess. He burst into my room, and he found us kissing, and he- he-”

Robert cut himself off, panic overwhelming his body as he spoke, the memories of that day flooding back, the dam well and truly broken now.

“It’s okay,” Aaron reassured, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s hairline. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Robert shook his head, this story one he clearly needed to tell. “My dad has always been strict,” he said. “He - he was never opposed to shouting at us, or giving me or Andy a clatter when we were out of order. But that day, Aaron, he - he was terrifying, I was terrified of what he might do.”

“What did he do?” Aaron almost didn’t want to ask.

“Took his belt to my back,” Robert managed to squeeze the words out, tears spilling down his cheeks as he spoke. “Told me that - that no son of his was ever going to be a queer,” he repeated the words, his reaction so visceral he felt as though he was going to vomit. The words had hurt more than he’d been able to comprehend, back then, and Robert understood the full ramifications now, older and wiser and more secure in who he was.

Aaron cycled through about twenty different emotions at once, settling between wanting to murder Jack, and wanting to hug Robert and never let go. “Your dad is a _dick_ ,” he said forcefully. Wrapping his arms around Robert, hugging him tightly. “He’s a dick, Robert, and he doesn’t deserve to have you as a son.”

“He makes me feel like a scared kid again,” Robert admitted, voice soft, and small.

“I….” Aaron trailed off. “He did all that to you, and you still came out, Robert,” he pointed out, pride swelling in his chest. “You still came out, and now - now you’re dating me, you’re seeing a fella despite what your dad thinks, and says, and does. You - you are so much braver than you give yourself credit for, Robert.”

Robert shook his head, wiping at his still flowing tears. “‘M not.”

Aaron pressed his lips to Robert’s hair, breathing in the familiar scent of his boyfriends shampoo. “You are,” he said, a little more forceful now. “You’re brave, Robert - and kind, and funny, and gorgeous.”

“Says you,” Robert mumbled tiredly.

“I love you,” Aaron whispered softly, saying the words to Robert’s hair, a way of protecting himself from possible rejection.

“You what?”

“I love you,” Aaron said, a little more confident in his words now. “I love you, Robert. And - you don’t have to say it back, or anything, I just wanted you to know.”

Robert’s heart thundered in his chest as he looked at Aaron, the reality of his words sinking in, filling up every dark, and twisted, and lonely cavity in Robert’s body with - well, with love. Actual, real, genuine love.

“I love you too,” Robert said, the words unfamiliar on his tongue. “I love you, Aaron.”

Aaron kissed him then, long and slow, the embrace feeling like a promise of something better to come, a life Robert could only have dreamed of, a few months back. A life he was starting to believe he might deserve, in the end.

A life he actually wanted, now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron had said he could stay as long as he liked, Chas and Paddy giving him oddly sympathetic looks over the breakfast table, Robert knowing Aaron had to justify the continued presence of Robert somehow.

He managed five whole days before he had to come face-to-face with Jack, Aaron point blank refusing to spend another night holed up in his bedroom, locked away from any possible Sugden interactions.

They were halfway through their tea, burgers Marlon had slapped together with a grumpy look on his face, muttering about his wasted specials, when Robert’s family walked in, Jack at the head of it all, Andy trailing behind him, Diane and Victoria arm in arm.

Robert hated the way his heart thundered in his chest as he walked his father slide into a booth, anger etched across every inch of his face.

“You okay?” Aaron inquired, a mouth full of food making his concerned statement a little on the funny side.

Robert leaned back in his seat, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Aaron’s chip salty lips. “I’m fine,” he said, reaching for his burger. “Marlon should put these on his specials menu, you know, proper good food this is.”

Aaron didn’t look convinced, but didn’t push the subject, nodding in agreement. “Do you fancy getting dessert?” he inquired, ravenous as always.

Robert grinned. “Sure thing, _tubs_.”

“Uh, says you, the guy who ate half a packet of digestive biscuits for breakfast this morning.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert couldn’t help but press a giddy kiss to Aaron’s lips as he stood up, Aaron poking at the remains of the dessert they’d gotten. “I’m desperate for a wazz,” he admitted, heading for the bathrooms. It was a Friday night, and the pub was heaving, Dry January resolutions already out the window, and Robert couldn’t wipe the smile from his space as he weaved his way through the crowd.

Days like this, he could imagine himself staying in Emmerdale - or coming back to it, maybe, after years away, ready for a quieter place of life.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, acting like you are in front of the whole village?”

Jack had Robert shoved against the wall before Robert could even recognise his voice, his father’s fury evident. “What I do, is none of your concern anymore,” Robert managed to spit out, trying to ignore the nerves that were gathering in the pit of his stomach.

He hated how Jack always made him feel like a stupid little kid.

“It is as long as you live under my roof.”

“I don’t live under your roof anymore, do I?” Robert countered with a smirk, that self confidence mask he wore like an armour back to full strength. “You know, all my life, all I have ever wanted was your approval, to have you love me the way you love Andy. But you know what I’ve realised, dad?” he asked, putting as much sarcastic emphasis on the word dad as he could muster.

“I’ve realised I don’t need your approval,” Robert answered for his father. “I’ve realised I don’t want your approval, actually, because your approval means me spending my life hiding who I really am, and I shouldn’t have to do that, to have my own father love me. Because I like who I am, dad. I’m proud of who I am, of being bisexual, and if you can’t see you’re missing out on a really fucking great son, that’s on you, not on me. I - I’ve spent my life believing it was my fault, that you didn’t love me, but I’m realising that’s all you, now, because you’re a bitter, twisted old man who couldn’t force me to be a mirror image of you, and you hate that.”

Jack didn’t say a word.

“If I ever have kids,” Robert continued. “I hope I never make them feel the way you’ve made me feel my whole life, dad - like I wasn’t worth your time, like I wasn’t worth loving. And all because of what, eh? Because I fancy fellas? Do you remember what you said to me, when you found me with a boy in my room?”

Jack’s expression was one of regret, the incident Robert was referring to clear in his mind.

“No son of yours was ever going to be a queer,” Robert quoted, the words having been etched in his mind for years, now. “But you couldn’t beat it out of me, dad, because here I am, a big ol’ queer, and I’m proud of it, too. I’m proud of who I love, and I love Aaron, and if you can’t accept that, then that’s your problem, not mine. I’m done with making how you feel about me my problem.”

“Robert?” Paddy’s nervous voice broke the heavy silence that had fallen between Robert, and Jack, his boyfriend’s father shuffling toward them. “Is everything okay?”

Robert shoved Jack’s hand away from where it was pinning his shoulder to the wall, nodding. “Everything’s fine, Paddy.”

And it was, actually.

For the first time in a very fucking long time, everything felt fine.

Pushing past a shell shocked Jack, and a confused Paddy, Robert reentered the pub, spotting Aaron sitting at their table still, sneakily finishing off Robert’s chocolate cake, not a hint of guilt on his face as he spotted Robert, spoon still in his mouth, his dark hair absolutely wild, Aaron not having bothered to put any product it in after he’d showered, washing the oily remains of a day at work away as Robert had sat on the sink, telling Aaron all about how he’d found cheap flights to Indonesia that afternoon.

Yeah, everything was perfectly fine.

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

(“Are we booking these flights or what then?” Aaron inquired, tossing his passport at Robert’s head, Robert sprawled out across Aaron’s bed, messing about on his laptop.

Robert sat up, grinning. “Indonesia it is, then.”

It wasn’t the gap year he’d spent so long planning, that was true - but the second name underneath his own on the one-way tickets to Jakarta he’d just bought made it all worthwhile.

The best laid plans, and all that.)

  


 

 


End file.
